


When In Doubt, Get A Kitten

by Aurellyn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Fluff, Karkat has PTSD, Kittens Fix Everything, M/M, POV Dave Strider, POV Second Person, PTSD mentions, dave is a good boyfriend, trauma mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurellyn/pseuds/Aurellyn
Summary: You don’t worry about you, you worry abouthimfirst and foremost.And besides, in all honesty, you’re not okay after the game either. None of you are. You’ve all got demons and trauma and fears. Some of you hide it better than others and none of you ever really address it, but you allknow.And you think that maybe having this little kitten might help Karkat heal just a little.





	When In Doubt, Get A Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the shortest thing I've written so far but I wanted to write this cute little drabble about Dave getting Karkat a kitten!
> 
> The kitten in this is actually really my new kitten that I got not too long ago. He's got the same disabilities as are mentioned in this, and even though I didn't give the kitten a name in this story, his name is Greyson. <3 I love the little guy and he's the sweetest little thing!
> 
> Here's a [picture of Greyson and his sister Honey](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1V14hrCoEFxqd-ToAHp3es-FIe-Em8ZC1/view?usp=sharing%22) if anybody is curious!

You glance down at the carrier on the passenger seat next to you, taking yet another deep breath to try and find the nerve to actually go inside. You’ve been parked outside of your house for over twenty minutes now, leg bouncing in anxiety.

Part of you is a little terrified that your boyfriend-matesprit is going to absolutely flip his shit and leave you, but another part of you knows that’s stupid. Karkat wouldn’t leave you because you got a cat, even if he’s said multiple times that he doesn’t want pets because it feels too weird. You suppose you can understand, since troll parents are essentially animals and you would feel uncomfortable if you were him. Hell, if Karkat were to spontaneously bring home, say, your bro-- don’t worry, he’s dead. He died in the game. He’s not coming back.-- you would probably fly into a hysterical panic.

Scowling a bit, you open the carrier next to you and pull out the little gray and white tabby kitten, cradling him to your chest. He immediately starts purring and nuzzling against you, and you can’t help but smile a bit.

You never had a pet growing up, but God you wish you did. A dog would have been the best companion for you. But you really don’t want to think about your less-than-stellar childhood so you just shake your head and pointedly lock those thoughts away under at least a hundred locks, and you toss away the keys for good measure.

The kitten in your arms leans away from you a bit, apparently eager to look at his surroundings, and you feel your heart ache a bit for him as his head does an odd little swerve in a circle. This is another reason you think this is the best possible thing for Karkat.

Your boyfriend has been having a lot of PTSD since the game ended. He has nightmares almost every night that’s turned him somewhat insomniatic, and sometimes he just spaces out with this scowl on his face, with eyebrows knit together, and he almost looks terrified and so _guilty_. You’ve talked to him a lot about it, and he always tells you that he ‘knows it’s fucking stupid to be so bothered by it’, but he is anyway.

You always tell him that there’s no shame in what he feels, because you know that if you were in his shoes you’d feel the same way. He’s always felt responsible for what happened to his friends, for what happened to all of you, and you know without a doubt you would feel the same in his position. He’s got such a big heart and it’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

The worst thing is that on top of his guilt, he’s got layers and layers and _layers_ of insecurity over his mutant traits. He knows that everybody knows about it, he knows that nobody cares, but it’s still a very sensitive topic for him. He still panics and takes off if he gets so much as a paper cut, he still covers his face when he blushes or cries-- even around you-- and despite being together for three years now, the two of you have still never had sex because he’s just so fucking afraid of you seeing his body.

You’re okay with never taking things to bed if you have to. You love Karkat so deeply that you’d honest to God be absolutely, one-hundred percent okay with never going that far with him. You don’t worry about you, you worry about _him_ first and foremost.

And besides, in all honesty, you’re not okay after the game either. None of you are. You’ve all got demons and trauma and fears. Some of you hide it better than others and none of you ever really address it, but you all _know_.

And you think that maybe having this little kitten might help Karkat heal just a little.

The kitten was a foster. He was born with a form of brain damage that means he can’t walk straight and falls over a lot. There’s nothing wrong with him mentally, he just has issues with movement. Oh, and he’s deaf.

Karkat is none of those things, but you think that maybe he’ll be able to relate to this little kitten in a way. They’re both not normal in some way, they’re both mutated, or disabled in the kitten’s case, and you know that they need each other.

And it’s that thought that finally encourages you to get out of the car and go inside.

You don’t bother bringing the carrier, since the kitten is too content in your arms to take off anyway, and when you shut the door behind you after stepping into the house you share with your boyfriend, you hear him call your name anxiously from the living room.

“Dave?”

“Yeah, it’s me, babe,” you call back without hesitation, not wanting to freak him out or let him think that he’s about to be fucking murdered. “I’ll be in in a sec.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he heard you.

You look at the kitten. “Okay, little guy, cross our fingers and hope for the best here.” You whisper to him even though he can’t hear you. Kicking off your shoes in a hurry, you walk down the hallway and stop just outside the living room, poking your head around the corner.

Karkat looks up at you immediately from where he’s curled up on the couch. He’s got a book in his hands, indicating he’d been reading, and the look of relief that crosses his face and has his entire body relaxing makes your heart bleed for him.

“Hey,” he says in greeting. “What the fuck took you so long? You were just going to the corner store.” He narrows his eyes on you suspiciously, and you flash him a smile.

“I had to take a detour,” you tell him, which isn’t entirely a lie. “Had to go get something I’ve been meaning to get you for a while.”

At the mention of a gift, Karkat raises a brow. “What are you talking about?” He asks, and you brace yourself before you step out from behind the wall so he can see the kitten you’re carrying. The kitten’s eyes are closed and he’s kneading your shirt as he purrs softly, blissfully unaware of what’s going on around him.

Karkat looks at the kitten, and his expression twists uncomfortably. He sighs. “Dave, what the fuck. Why? We talked about this. I-”

“I know, Karkitten,” you interrupt him before he can go on a tangent. You haven’t moved yet, still just standing in the doorway. “I know, you don’t want a pet ‘cause your troll parents are animals. I _know_ , but just hear me out, would you?”

He crosses his arms but stays silent. Even if he’s letting you talk, you can see that he’s not particularly thrilled about this. You have to _really_ sell him on the idea. That in mind, you decide to finally cross the room to the couch and sit next to him. He leans away from you and the kitten like it’s going to bite him.

“Look,” you start, “you’ve been having a lot of trouble coping since the game. We’ve talked about it a hundred times-- and I don’t mind!” You almost yelp that last part with the way his expression twists into a look of extreme guilt and horror, reaching across to gently grab his hand. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sorry,” he says anyway, and you shake your head at him.

“Don’t be, dude.” And you mean it, giving him a look that you hope conveys that. “But anyway, I don’t mind talking to you about it when you need it, but I’m the worst at giving advice and I don’t know how to help you other than just sitting here and listening. You dig?”

He nods, but he still looks bothered by the idea.

“So, I asked Rose what I could do to help-- ‘cause I love you and I want to help, right-- and she suggested that I get you a pet.”

“But, Dave-”

You cut him off before he can give you the same spiel he gave you last time. “They’re really therapeutic and apparently back on earth fucking military veterans would get a puppy to cope with their PTSD. We’re talking men and women who’ve seen death and war and serious fucking traumatic shit.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “And I know you’d hate having a dog, too high maintenance and shit, so I figured I’d get you a cat.”

When you go quiet, Karkat just stares at you. He glances at the kitten, purses his lips, then looks at you again and squeezes your hand that’s still in his. “I appreciate it, Dave, believe me, I really fucking do, but … It’s just too weird for me. My lusus was a fucking crab monster, and just knowing that Nepeta’s lusus was this sort of cat-creature makes it even worse.” He frowns and looks away a bit. “I’d probably just end up accidentally killing it anyway.”

Your heart aches for him, holy fuck. But you’re determined to get him to agree to this, so you keep pressing. “Nah, man,” you say with a shake of your head. “Cats are crazy easy to take care of. They’re really independent, sorta like trolls.” When he gives you a confused look, you go on, “well, just think about it. Trolls are supposed to not rely heavily on anybody, right? Except for like maybe their moirail or matesprit or whatever, but that’s beside the point. Trolls are supposed to keep to themselves and sorta take care of themselves, and cats are like that too.”

You motion to the kitten in your arms. “Some of ‘em really like attention, but for the most part they just do their own thing. And that seems like the kinda thing you could get used to.”

He looks maybe a little convinced, but mostly he looks surprised. “You’ve been talking to Kanaya, haven’t you?” he says, and he sounds amused. You did talk to Kanaya about this, since she knows more about the troll race than anybody, but you’re not going to tell him that. Instead, you just smile at him.

“And, actually, this little guy’s a little special,” you tell him. Oh, good, that’s got his attention more than anything else you’ve said. Awesome, maybe you’ll be able to convince him after all. “He’s deaf, for one, and got a brain deformity that makes it so he can’t move right. Here, look.”

You lean over to set the kitten down on the floor. He meows quietly in protest at being moved when he was so comfortable, but then he actuallys look around the room. Even sitting down, his head and shoulders wobble when he turns it to look at his surroundings. You glance at Karkat to see what he thinks, but he’s staring at the kitten. He’s got a little scowl on his face, and you know he’s noticed that the cat is different.

The kitten gets to his feet, his back legs held at an odd angle, and he takes a few steps forward before tumbling over to the side. And Karkat’s heart practically migrates to his face with the way he looks at the small animal in pity. He doesn’t say anything, just watches as the little gray and white tabby stumbles and walks away from the couch to explore his surroundings.

“Does it hurt him?” Karkat asks after a moment, his gaze still glued on the kitten.

“No,” you answer, “honestly, the little guy probably doesn’t even know there’s anything wrong with him. I mean, falling over all the time and stuff, he could fall off beds or the couch and hurt himself, but his brain condition itself doesn’t hurt.”

Karkat hums a bit in understanding, and then asks, “does he have a name?”

“No. You get to name him. If you want to keep him, that is.”

He seems to snap out of whatever spell had him focused on the kitten at your words, as if they physically pierced him, and he frowns deeply. “I don’t know, Dave. It’s … I just don’t fucking know.”

You’ve almost got him, damn it.

“Why don’t you pet him?” you ask, and even as he replies with a ‘no’, you’re getting up to go retrieve the kitten who is trying to crawl awkwardly under an end table. After retrieving him, you return to the couch and hold him out to your boyfriend, who just stares at the little animal with wide eyes.

“Just pet him,” you insist, trying to sound encouraging. For a long moment Karkat just looks torn, but then he slowly lifts one hand and reaches for the kitten’s head. His fingers come to rest between the little guy’s ears and his expression morphs into one of awe and wonder.

“It’s soft,” he comments, mystified.

You smile and nod, and then, without warning, you push the kitten forward and set him in Karkat’s arms. Karkat’s entire body stiffens, and thank God he doesn’t throw the tiny animal, and he just looks down at it with wide eyes.

The kitten looks up at him, meows loudly, and then nuzzles his entire body against the troll, starting to purr immediately as he curls up and kneads his tiny little paws against Karkat’s arm. A small, shaky chirp comes out of Karkat. You watch as he stares at the kitten, relaxes visibly, and even holds the little guy tighter in his arms.

You’ve absolutely got him, you know it, and you almost sight in relief.

Karkat uses one hand to gently stroke the kitten’s back, and for a long, long several minutes he just stares the little thing. You can see that he’s thinking hard, even without properly seeing his face, but you hope it’s a good thing.

Eventually, he looks up at you, and there’s tears in his eyes. He blinks hard, as if trying to prevent them from falling, and then he reaches for you with one arm, since the other is occupied with the kitten, and wraps it around your shoulders.

He tugs you close to him and kisses you with so much love and passion that it momentarily stuns you. When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to yours, his eyes closed. “Thank you,” he says quietly, reverently. You smile at him even if he can’t see and you wrap both of your arms around him.

“You’re welcome, dude.”


End file.
